


I'll Be Good For You

by violaceum_vitellina_viridis



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Bratty Sub Wade Wilson, Bratty Wade, Dom Peter, Dom Peter Parker, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Sex Toys, Smut, Spanking, Sub Wade Wilson, THE BOXES - Freeform, Topping from the Bottom, Unsafe Sex, choose your own Peter, more spiderlike Peter, sex as a coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 14:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20437313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violaceum_vitellina_viridis/pseuds/violaceum_vitellina_viridis
Summary: The fire in Peter’s eyes only ever meant good things.{Gooooood, very good things….}[I’m surrounded by idiots.]





	I'll Be Good For You

**Author's Note:**

> this is more self-indulgent porn, this time featuring BDSM and a healthy dose of praise!kink. the fact that this fic got finished is entirely dracoismytrashson's fault.
> 
> a series of disclosures about this fic:
> 
> 1\. it seems a little...abusive at the beginning. in my head, peter and wade don't exactly have a 24/7 dom/sub relationship but they use it to help each other be better - thus, wade shirking a chore to goad peter into playing. all of this is 100% consensual and pre-discussed.
> 
> 2\. that said, this is fictional bdsm and these are fictional characters. please be careful and aware if you decide to do any kind of bdsm play, whether its safe, sane, and consensual, or risk-aware consensual kink. in this, wade uses his and peter's play as a way to cope with the boxes, and this is absolutely not advised for IRL play unless done with full awareness of the risks and a trusted partner. please take care of yourselves.
> 
> 3\. as stated on my previous spideypool fic: everything i know about spiderman and deadpool - and thus, peter and wade - comes from, in order: the spiderman trilogy with toby maguire, the andrew garfield spiderman, deadpool 1 & 2, a handful of out of context comic panels, and fanfic, with some wiki articles sprinkled in. i take full responsibility for the fact that i know truly fuckall about this universe(s) or its characters. i just want to play with them anyway.
> 
> {Yellow}  
[White]
> 
> title is from another anberlin song, Losing It All.
> 
> anyway, enjoy the 20 pages and 10,000+ words of...whatever we want to call this.

“Wade.”

Peter’s voice was low and rough and _dangerous _in a way it never was unless he was Spiderman, or when Wade was being particularly difficult. And Wade could see the Spiderman suit where it hung in their shared closet, so it had to be the latter, and, well –

Wade knew he was being a brat.

And clearly, Peter knew it too, or he wouldn’t be using that voice, and –

“Wade Winston Wilson,” Peter _growled _and Wade’s dick took more than a little interest in the proceedings, “come here.”

Wade swallowed where his pulse was thundering against his windpipe. “What will you give me if – ”

“_Now._”

Wade was moving before he even realized he was going to obey. Peter was standing in the kitchen amongst the mess Wade might have made and left for him to find.

[You’ve done it now.]

{Look at his _face!_}

Peter’s presence practically filled the room. Wade instinctively looked down, then grunted and looked back up defiantly, clenching his fists at his side. Peter raised an eyebrow and turned to face him fully. He stood his ground despite how badly he wanted to drop to his knees. The fire in Peter’s eyes only ever meant good things.

{Gooooood, _very _good things….}

[I’m surrounded by idiots.]

“What is this?” Peter gestured to the disaster covering the kitchen – pots, pans, and plates were strewn about, all dirty, and there were stains and puddles of sauces and mixes all over the countertops. Wade squared his shoulders.

“A mess,” he said, as nonchalantly as he could manage. “What about it?”

That earned him another raised eyebrow, and a shift in the way Peter was holding himself. He was _looming, _and Wade felt small, the good six inches and eighty pounds he had on Peter meaning nothing.

“And why is it still here?” Peter reached over to swipe at a stain. Nothing came off on his finger. “It’s clearly not recent.”

“Because I didn’t want to clean it,” Wade shrugged, though it was a little forced. “If it bothers you so much, _you _can clean it.”

[Wrong answer.]

{_Right_ answer!}

Before Wade even registered him moving, Peter was behind him, one hand tight on the back of Wade’s neck and the other bruising his hip.

“What was that?” Peter was whispering right into Wade’s ear, his voice back to the low and rough tone from before. Wade fought a shiver and swallowed hard.

“I s-said,” Wade started, stammering when Peter’s grip on his neck tightened, “If the mess bothers you, _you. _Can. Clean. It.” He carefully enunciated each word, fighting the way he was starting to shake.

Peter hissed, and suddenly they were moving. In less than a blink of an eye, Peter swept some of the mess away and slammed Wade down in its place, bending him over the counter.

Wade’s knees buckled, and all of the tension flooded out of his body at once. His hands next to his head on the counter splayed sideways, one resting on top of some of the mess. Peter’s hands, still on his nape and hip, tightened again, almost to the point of pain. He just went more limp, body slumping into the counter in submission. A small, high sound almost like a whine escaped his lips.

Peter paused, going entirely still and grip slackening a bit, but only for a moment. Then he was letting go of Wade’s hip – carefully pressing his weight forward so Wade wouldn’t fall – and stroking from the small of Wade’s back to the top of his head, then back down. Wade didn’t fight the shudder this time, or the tiny whimper that spilled out.

“Is this what you wanted, Wade?”

Wade whimpered again, finding enough strength in himself to press his hips backward against Peter’s body pinning him to the counter. He didn’t want to break Peter’s hold on him – couldn’t, actually, even if he tried, which should have scared him but instead just made him _blindingly _hard.

[Because you’re disgusting.]

{ffffffffffffff – }

“Yeah?” Peter asked, as if Wade had actually answered him. “Alright. I can give you what you want, but….”

Wade shivered and arched closer again at the dark promise in Peter’s voice. “B-but?” he asked, quietly, hardly even whisper against the cold countertop against his cheek. His mind was already sinking into a haze, the Boxes fading into the background.

“But,” Peter leaned a little closer, his breath ghosting over Wade’s ear, “I’m not going to make it easy.”

Wade couldn’t have stopped the whined, “_please,_” even if he’d wanted to. Peter chuckled.

“I think you deserve a punishment, don’t you?” Peter’s hand slid down to trail over Wade’s ass, barely covered by threadbare sweatpants. “Answer me, Wade.”

“Y-yes,” Wade stammered, shifting, a little uncomfortable with his erection digging into the counter.

“Yes?” Peter asked, tone as hard as steel, and Wade jolted a little.

“_Sir,_” he gasped. “_Sir, _sorry. Yes, sir.”

Peter smothered a chuckle. “Good boy,” he murmured. His fingers tapped lightly against the swell of Wade’s ass, and he hummed, almost like he was thinking.

“How about this, hmm?” Peter leaned back a little, but kept Wade pinned down with his hands. “I’m going to spank you,” Wade shuddered hard, and Peter just tightened his grip, but the sound of a grin crept into his voice, “and then I’m going to make you clean this kitchen _spotless._”

Wade groaned, but it wasn’t entirely in protest. Peter chuckled again.

“You’ll get a reward if you’re a good boy,” Peter murmured, leaning close again and pressing a chaste kiss to Wade’s cheek. “You want to be a good boy for me, right?”

“Mmhmm,” Wade nodded as best he could against the counter. “Yes, please, Sir.”

“Good.” Peter nipped lightly at Wade’s ear, licking the sting away. “Tell me your safeword, Wade.”

Wade’s stomach twisted unpleasantly, and he shook his head. “No.” He didn’t say it – only mouthed it against the counter – but Peter noticed the lack of response immediately.

“Wade?”

“No,” Wade breathed.

“No?” Peter asked, voice hardening again. Wade flinched a little, wiggled in Peter’s still iron-tight grasp. “Wade?”

Wade whined, high-pitched and a little panicked. Peter’s grip loosened when he wriggled and that made the pit in his stomach grow; he whimpered and shook his head hard, smashing his nose against the counter.

“Hey, hey,” Peter murmured, voice soft now, gentle. His grip tightened again and he pinned Wade to the counter, an immovable force laid over Wade’s back. Wade settled a little, but the pit was still there, and he was confused.

“Why won’t you give me your safeword, Wade?”

His mouth was opening to answer before he could even consciously think of why. “Don’t want you to stop, Sir, please, don’t stop.”

Peter hissed a soft, “Shit,” and pressed tighter against Wade’s body. It was uncomfortable, but exactly what Wade wanted – needed – so he relaxed into the pressure. “Shit, baby, you dropped fast today. You’ve been needing this, haven’t you?”

“Mmmm,” Wade mumbled, already drifting a little, crisis mostly averted.

“Okay, baby,” Peter pressed closer still, and Wade grunted but pressed back where he could. “Okay, I’ll give you what you need, but I need to know you remember your safeword, Wade. I promise if you tell it to me right now, I won’t stop. Just this time, okay? Just once.”

“Promise?” Wade whispered the question, eyes closed tightly.

“I promise, baby. I promise I’ll take care of you, but you need to give me your safeword, okay?”

“Mhm,” Wade hummed, swallowing. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy, Wade,” Peter rumbled, and he sounded so _proud, _Wade hummed again, eyes still closed, but smiling now. “What’s your safeword, baby?”

“Hospital, or red,” he mumbled.

“That’s right, baby,” Peter massaged his thumb against Wade’s neck and Wade managed to slump even more pliantly. “What do you say if you want me to slow down and check in?”

“Orange.”

“You’re such a good boy, Wade,” Peter praised, still rubbing his thumb in relaxing circles. “My good boy.”

Wade made a wordless, excited sound at that, and Peter laughed. “Yes, Wade, you’re _mine,_ aren’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“That’s right,” Peter moved the hand he’d been using to press Wade’s legs closer to the counter but kept the hand on the nape of Wade’s neck in place. “You’re all mine, and _such _a good boy.” His now-free hand wiggled between Wade’s waist and the counter’s edge, tugging at the knot that held Wade’s sweatpants up until it loosened.

“Where are you, honey?”

“Good,” Wade was starting to slur a little bit, “green, Sir.”

“I’m glad,” Peter hummed, tugging the sweatpants until they fell around Wade’s thighs. He wasn’t wearing underwear – he never was – and Peter pet over his bare ass, gentle over the mottled and scarred skin. “How many do you think you deserve, hmm?”

Wade struggled through the haze for a second to think. “Uh,” he huffed, “how – how many dirty dishes did I leave?”

Peter laughed and groped at Wade’s ass, dropping a kiss to his shoulder. “_Good _boy,” he said, “absolutely _perfect,_ Wade. Let’s see.” Peter leaned away for just a second, but kept Wade pinned, and Wade assumed he was counting the dishes in the mess.

“Hmm, looks like thirty.”

Wade winced a little.

“Do you think you can take thirty, baby?”

“I….” Wade trailed off, thinking hard. It had been a while since he’d earned a spanking, but…. “I think so, Sir.”

Peter paused for a moment, but leaned back over Wade’s body to nuzzle his ear. “Alright. Tell me if you need me to stop or slow down, okay? Use your words.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good boy. Do you think you can count them?”

Wade took a sharp breath in. He wasn’t good at counting _before _he dropped – he was already hazy, and he’d just go deeper during the spanking, so…. “I’ll try, Sir.”

Peter smiled into the kiss he pressed to the base of Wade’s skull. “That’s good enough for me, baby.” He stood again, Wade as helplessly pinned as ever, and ran his free hand across Wade’s ass again.

“Start counting, sweetheart,” he murmured, and Wade braced himself for the smack that followed. It was light – not soft, Peter wouldn’t do that to him, but it wasn’t as hard as he’d ever gone, either.

“One,” Wade sighed out. Peter hummed, sounding proud.

The following hits ranged from the lightness of the first to hard slaps that jolted Wade’s body. Peter kept a steady rhythm – it helped Wade count, and Peter knew it – but varied where he hit, keeping Wade simultaneously alert to the pain and floating away.

Peter paused, eventually, and Wade came back to himself a little.

“Sir?”

“You stopped counting, Wade.”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“It’s okay, baby. You did good for so long. Do you remember where you stopped?”

“…no, Sir.” Wade felt incredibly disappointed in himself, a voice that sounded suspiciously like White whispering _what a moron, you’re the worst sub _in the back of his head. He tried to push it away, but it just got louder. “Sir….”

“Yes, Wade?”

“I’m…. Uh,” Wade’s face scrunched in concentration, searching for the right word. “Voices.”

“Which one, baby?”

“…White?”

“Ah,” Peter sounded…almost put out, and Wade felt that pit in his stomach opening again. He wiggled. Peter didn’t budge, though. “Well, who decides if you’ve been good?”

“You, Sir.” Wade knew the answer to that immediately. Peter stroked his hip as a reward for the right answer.

“Exactly. Does White get to decide if you’re good?”

“No, Sir.”

“So,” Peter leaned down again, breath against Wade’s ear making him shiver, “if I say you’re a good boy – if I tell you you’re being _perfect _for me, who is right? Me, or White?”

“You, Sir!” Wade half-shouted it, shocked when Peter chose that moment to lay another spank across the widest part of his ass. “You decide, Sir!”

“Correct, Wade.” Peter massaged Wade’s ass, settling the burn deeper into the muscle. Wade shuddered but pressed closer to the contact. “I decide. And I,” Peter’s voice dropped, from low and rough to damn near gravel-coated, “think you’re the most _perfect _sub I could have ever asked for.”

Wade outright _whined, _long and high, and Peter chuckled.

“You have four more, sweetheart,” Peter murmured. “Can you take them?”

“_Please, _Sir,” Wade gasped, breathing tight because of Peter’s weight, “please.”

“Alright,” Peter leaned back, and the last four hits came in quick succession. Wade half-screamed, the sound too breathy to carry, but Peter chuckled all the same.

Peter spent a long moment after the last four hits just groping Wade’s ass, pressing his fingers into the sore skin. Wade just hummed and groaned and pressed closer, practically boneless against the counter. If Peter decided to let him go right this second, he’d be on the floor.

“Cleaning time,” Peter announced. Wade groaned again, a little less happily, but nodded against the counter.

“Yes, Sir,” he answered. Peter pressed a kiss to the back of his head.

“Good boy. Can you stand by yourself?”

Wade tested out the strength of his knees, trying to shift to leaning on his arms, but had no luck. “No, Sir,” he mumbled, mildly embarrassed.

Peter laughed. “Good. C’mere, baby.” Peter carefully pulled Wade’s sweatpants back over his ass and tied them back up, then pulled Wade into his arms. Wade did his best to support his own weight, but mostly just collapsed back against Peter’s chest, which earned him another chuckle.

“You’re like a sack of potatoes,” Peter murmured affectionately. “C’mon. You have cleaning to do, Wade.”

Wade nodded. “Mmm, I know, Sir. S’hard.”

“Yes, you are.” Peter ghosted a hand over Wade’s erection, making him jolt. “We’ll deal with that later, hmm? If you do a good job cleaning.”

“I will, Sir,” Wade promised. “Wanna be good.”

“I know.” Peter turned Wade around in his arms and kissed his nose. “You’re always such a good boy.”

“I try, Sir.”

“You succeed, baby. Now, c’mon, it’s time for you to clean up your mess.”

* * *

Peter left Wade mostly to his own devices while he cleaned. Every fifteen minutes or so he’d pass by and grope Wade, or kiss his neck, or otherwise keep Wade _entirely _hard, but he didn’t help, and they didn’t talk.

Wade started with the dishes, since some of them would need to soak before he could really clean them. He scrubbed clean what he could and then left the others in hot water and moved to the counters. None of the mess was particularly difficult to clean up, there was just a lot of mess.

He was regretting his choice of how to piss Peter off. Just a little bit.

Finally, after spending a good twenty minutes fighting it, he got the last big stain off of the island and turned back to the dishes. He knew they’d be easy to finish and definitely wasn’t looking forward to cleaning the other counters. He’d do it – of course he would, and he’d have done it even without it being a punishment (Peter had a safeword, same as him, and he’d used it to opt out of Wade’s bratty-ness before). But being willing to do it and enjoying it were definitely not the same thing. And he definitely wasn’t going to enjoy it.

Especially when he got out the bleach. He hated bleach, it made the skin on his hands and arms so much worse the next day, even when he wore proper set of gloves (or several sets). But it had to be done.

Peter wanted the kitchen spotless. He’d get what he asked for.

Overall it took two hours to clean the whole kitchen, and an additional forty-five minutes to get it to the “spotless” level. Wade wiped everything down – including the floor – one last time before he went to find Peter. He found his boyfriend in the spare bedroom-cum-office-and-mini-lab, fiddling with a webshooter.

“Sir?” Wade was pretty sure they were still technically scene-ing, here. Peter smiled when he looked up.

“Done?” he asked, putting the webshooter aside. “That was fast.”

“Nearly three hours isn’t fast,” Wade protested, “but yes, I’m done. Sir.”

“Good boy.”

Wade blushed while Peter stood and put away his experiments. He was still blushing when Peter came over and kissed his cheek.

“Hmm, you smell like bleach and dish soap,” Peter was chuckling a little. “Go take a shower, sweetheart, and I’ll let you know my verdict when you’re done.”

“Mmm,” Wade nodded, and he meant to move, to obey, but Peter looked so _good, _comfortable and powerful and so fucking attractive. “Sir?”

“Yes, Wade?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

Peter grinned. “Of course you can, baby.” He crowded Wade against the doorjamb, height difference be damned as usual, and gave Wade the gentlest, slowest kiss imaginable.

Wade stumbled a little when Peter backed away and pouted when Peter laughed. Peter swatted lightly at Wade’s ass on his way to the kitchen.

“Go shower, Wade.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Wade did his best to hurry through showering, but there was only so much he could hurry. Peter had been making him take care of his skin and it was still a nightmare, sure, but it was a bearable nightmare most days. The low-level pain Wade was always in had even lessened a little bit, enough to notice at least, and Wade had more good skin days than bad now.

Peter had improved Wade’s life in leaps and bounds, and Wade wasn’t about to start neglecting himself again and disappoint the love of his life. So he hurried what he could, but made sure to go through all of the steps of his skincare carefully. The only thing he couldn’t do by himself was put on the special lotion that Peter had made for him.

Yeah, made. In a lab. With research. And Wade didn’t even have to go inside anything resembling a medical facility. Peter was very possibly not even real, he was so perfect.

[Y’know, we haven’t discussed the possibility that you’re hallucinating in a while.]

{Yeah, we’ve done that before. Talked about it _and _hallucinated!}

[We’re probably hallucinating.]

{It’s possible! I kinda hope we’re not though.}

[Shut up.]

{What? I _like _Peter!}

[You’re as bad as him.]

“I’m right here,” Wade muttered, not even noticing the way he’d torn his towel while the Boxes argued. His fingers felt tingly, and there was that pit in his stomach – was he still down? He didn’t know, everything was kind of fuzzy and happy, but the Boxes….

[Of course you’re right here, we’re in your _head_, moron.]

{And so is Peter. Right? We decided that?}

[We decided it’s a likely possibility.]

“We didn’t decide anything,” Wade snarled, but his stomach sank. Was Peter a hallucination?

No, he couldn’t be. Wade’s skin didn’t hurt right now. He didn’t smell like soap and death, he just smelled like soap, because his skin wasn’t decaying before it healed anymore. Peter couldn’t be a hallucination, because Wade never would have been able to do anything about his skin without Peter. He wasn’t smart enough.

[You can say that again.]

{If he’s stupid, does that make us stupid?}

[It makes _you _stupid.]

{Hey!}

“Peter?” Wade called. There wasn’t a response and his heartrate kicked up. _Fuck._

[Told you.]

{Na-na-na-na-na-naaaah!}

“Peter!” Wade tried again, hearing the towel rip further. It didn’t matter. The towel didn’t _matter, _he needed Peter, and he wasn’t here, and –

“Wade!”

Suddenly, he was being wrapped up in impossibly strong arms. He collapsed forward into them, vision blurred and reality spinning, and they caught him.

“I’m here, Wade, baby, I’m right here.” Peter’s voice was soft and soothing, the words breathed right into Wade’s ear. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

{See, he IS real!}

[Unconfirmed. We’ve hallucinated more vividly than this before.]

{You’re right. Does kinda feel fake….}

[Definitely is.]

Wade whimpered and clung tighter to Peter, only barely hearing the sound of tearing seams.

“Baby, sweetheart,” Peter’s voice was a little louder now, but still soft, still gently. “What’s happening, honey?”

“Voices,” Wade gasped. “Both,” he added before Peter could ask. “Both.”

“Goddamnit,” Peter muttered. “Can’t they let us have a single day?”

Wade just whined in response, trying to bury his face into Peter’s chest. He couldn’t breathe, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t technically _have _to breathe, after all. Passing out wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

“Okay, Wade, I’m going to pick you up, alright? Can you give me a color on that?”

“Green,” Wade managed to choke out. White and Yellow were still talking, overlapping one another into a storm of words and sickness in his head. He could feel his stomach turning.

“Good boy, okay, here we go,” Peter hefted Wade into a bridal carry. “I’m going to the bedroom, alright baby?”

“Green.”

“Perfect, Wade.” Peter pressed a kiss to Wade’s temple. “My wonderful boy.”

The storm in Wade’s head slowed a little. “That,” he managed. “keep….”

“What? You want me to tell you how you’re mine?”

“Mm,” Wade nodded, “and…and the….”

“Ah,” Peter kissed him again, “there it is. My sweet, amazing boy, aren’t you Wade? Just perfect for me. The best sub, the best _boyfriend_, I could have ever asked for. You took your spanking so well, and you counted so good for me, and then you cleaned the kitchen _perfectly, _my brilliant boy. Not a single spot left. Even the floor! You did such a good job, and you’re doing so well, answering my questions and telling me what you need.”

Wade whined and buried his face in Peter’s neck, trying to focus on calming his breathing. Peter kept talking but it became background noise – keeping the Boxes back but not really a focus.

He tuned back in when Peter stopped moving. “I’m going to put you down on the bed, Wade, so I can get undressed,” Peter murmured. “Color?”

“Orange.” Wade felt himself start to shake. He didn’t want Peter to let go of him.

Peter hummed. “Okay. Alright, how about this? I’ll put you back on your feet, but I won’t let go. You’ll have to help me with my clothes. Is that better?”

“Yeah,” Wade breathed. “Green.”

“Good boy.” Peter gently put him down, keeping his promise and not letting go. Wade took a second to steady himself on his feet before he started on Peter’s pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them before he pushed them down Peter’s thighs. His boxers went with them.

Peter hummed as he stepped out of them and the indoor slippers he was wearing. Wade waited until Peter was balanced again before starting to unbutton his shirt. He found no undershirt underneath it, which was a relief. They got it off one arm at a time so that Peter was still holding on to Wade throughout. Once Peter’s shirt was on the floor, he pulled Wade close and kissed him.

It was slow and gentle, but no less overwhelming for how soft it was; Wade’s knees buckled, but Peter caught him and held him up effortlessly.

The Boxes had disappeared again, but Wade was still scared they were right.

“I’m not hallucinating, right?” Wade asked quietly when Peter broke the kiss. Peter shook his head.

“No, baby,” Peter murmured, crushing Wade tight to his body. “We’re in our apartment that we bought together. I’m right here, holding you. This is real, sweetheart.”

“I’m not sure,” Wade admitted, feeling his eyes sting with tears.

“That’s okay, honey.” Peter peppered the side of Wade’s face with kisses, chaste and sweet. Wade’s heart ached.

“I can’t…. How do I know?”

Peter took a deep breath. “I’ll give you two options, okay? Tell me your color on them, and we’ll see which we want to do, okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” Something settled in Wade’s chest when he said ‘sir,’ and he realized he hadn’t been saying it. “Sorry, Sir.”

“No,” Peter said, not harshly but firmly, looking right into Wade’s eyes. “You have no reason to apologize, Wade. You have done nothing wrong.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I want you to say it, Wade.”

Wade swallowed hard. He didn’t like it when Peter did this – made him repeat the nice things Peter said about him. It was hard every time. But he was getting better at doing it without a fuss. “I – I haven’t…done anything wrong, Sir.”

“Good boy. Perfect, Wade.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Peter smiled and stroked Wade’s cheek with his thumb. “Alright, here are your two options. I can tie you down, arms and legs, and give you your reward. Or I can use the paddle. What are your colors?”

“Green, and…orange,” Wade answers after a second of thought. “Too much,” he explains, gesturing to his ass, when Peter looked at him questioningly. Peter smiles at the answer.

“Thank you, Wade.” Peter kisses him softly. “Which would you prefer?”

“Tying, Sir,” Wade answers immediately. “But….”

“But what?”

Wade looked at his feet. They’d only done this one time before – and it was a wonderful memory – but he was almost embarrassed to ask again. He knew it was kind of difficult to do, and –

“Wade. What do you want?”

“Webs,” Wade blurted out, then flushed. “I don’t…. Don’t tie me with ropes, please, Sir?”

Peter tilted Wade’s head back up with a finger under his chin. He was smiling.

“I don’t have my webshooters. I’d have to go grab them,” he said. Wade nodded, then shook his head. He reached up to Peter’s wrist and pet over the miniscule hole there, feeling the slightly raised area behind it. Peter looked down at his wrist. He didn’t bother to hide the shiver when Wade pet over the hole again.

“You sure, baby? You can’t break those.”

Wade nodded. “Please, Sir. I want….” He swallowed and looked away again. Peter let him, but pulled him closer, so his cheek was against Peter’s shoulder.

“Can you say it for me, baby? Explain what you need? You can stay right here while you do it.” Peter pet over Wade’s scalp and down to his shoulders, pressing a kiss behind his ear.

Wade nuzzled into Peter’s shoulder, taking a deep breath.

“Need…. Need to know you’re real, Sir,” he managed, quietly. Thank god Peter had super hearing.

“Alright,” Peter said. “Okay. Can I let go of you long enough to set up the bed, baby?”

Wade shuddered but nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

Peter leaned back to look into Wade’s eyes. “Let me know if that changes, okay? We’re not on a time schedule, none of this has to happen right now. I’m here to take care of you.”

“Yes, Sir.” Wade wrapped his arms around his chest when Peter let go, focusing on his breathing and watching Peter move. It didn’t take long, Peter stripping the blankets from the bed and bunching them up under the pillows so Wade would have something to rest on, then making sure that lube and lotion and condoms were in easy reach.

Wade felt his face screw up at the sight of the condoms. Peter noticed.

“What is it, baby?”

“Condoms, Sir,” Wade answered. “Don’t want them.” They really only used them to make clean up easier, but Wade didn’t care about clean up right now.

Peter laughed and tossed the box away. “Okay, honey.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Of course, baby.” Peter comes back to stand in front of Wade, wrapping his arms around Wade’s shoulders. He kissed the side of Wade’s head. “Lay down and get comfortable on the bed.”

“Yes, Sir.” Wade snuck a kiss to Peter’s collarbone – judging by the giggle Peter let out, it wasn’t that sneaky – and ducked around him to get to the bed. He sprawled out, knowing that Peter would want him spread-eagle, and raised his arms.

Peter grinned at him. “Such a good boy, Wade.” When he stepped over to the side of the bed, he leaned down and kissed Wade’s hip on his way. Wade smiled and wiggled his hips a little.

Everything still felt a little out-of-sorts, but Peter was smiling, and he kept telling Wade he was good, so it was okay. It’d been even better once Peter got him tied up.

“Let me know if anything is too tight, baby,” Peter reminded him. “You’re still sure you want me to use the natural webs?”

Wade nodded. He swallowed the small lump in his throat to speak. “Yes, Sir. Please, Sir.”

Peter smiled, the expression soft and warm. “Good boy. I’ll start now.”

Wade nodded again and looked to his wrist, the one Peter was closest to. He always liked to watch Peter spin webs, even with the less precise webshooters. Seeing him use his natural silk was always a treat, since he didn’t use it very often for anything. It took too much energy to use it a lot, he’d explained to Wade once. It was easier to use the synthetic webs.

The silk Peter produced naturally was almost entirely see-through – he’d actually intentionally made the synthetic whiter, so he could see it easier. Peter used his long fingers to manipulate it, wrapping it around the bedpost first until it was a strong thread, and then around Wade’s wrist. He took the pressure off of Wade’s wrist by spinning little supports between his wrist and the bedpost, as well as along his palm and between his fingers. Wade shuddered when Peter leaned forward and flicked his tongue at a misplaced web to dissolve it. It wasn’t the only way he could break these webs, but it was certainly Wade’s favorite.

Peter did Wade’s other wrist and ankles the same, though he gave Wade’s ankles more length to move, probably so Peter could move his legs later. Wade just let Peter move him and watched how carefully Peter made the webs, arousal stirring in his stomach at the singular focus.

“There,” Peter finally said. “Everything comfortable?”

Wade nodded, humming. “Mm. Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Now, I think it’s about time for your reward, yeah?”

“Please, sir.”

“Good boy, Wade,” Peter smiled as he climbed onto the bed, settling on his knees between Wade’s legs. Wade shifted them more open, as much as he could while restrained, and Peter’s smile widened.

“Perfect,” he murmured, reaching out to run his hands down Wade’s calves. “Now…. Do you want me to tell you what your reward is, or do you want it to be a surprise?”

Wade shrugged the best he could. “Up to you, Sir, but…,” he took a deep breath – saying what he wanted was still hard sometimes, “I just…want you to keep talking to me.”

Peter’s smile softened to something somehow fond and smoldering at the same time. Wade wiggled a little, nowhere to go with the strange flipping feeling that gave his stomach. Peter ran a hand up Wade’s body, from hip to shoulder, pressing his thumb into the hollow of Wade’s throat.

From anyone else, it would’ve felt like a threat. Peter made it feel like a promise of safety. The part of Wade that was still panicking even in the absence of the Boxes relaxed the slightest bit.

“I love you,” Peter said softly. “So, so very much, Wade Wilson.”

Wade shivered and arched up, eyes fluttering. He watched the way Peter’s pupils dilated and felt his dick twitching to life.

“You know,” Peter continued, moving his hand down to Wade’s chest, where his heartrate was kicking up. “I don’t think I ever told you about the first time I saw you.”

Wade thought for a second, then shook his head. “No, Sir.”

Peter’s smile was smaller now, but secretive, and he wasn’t looking at Wade’s face anymore. Instead, he was watching his own hand trace the scars on Wade’s chest, fingertips gentle but with just enough pressure that instead of pain, all Wade could feel was the pleasure of touch. Wade let his eyes flutter closed, pressing into the wandering hand.

“I was nineteen,” Peter started, using the tip of his thumb to flick across Wade’s nipple. Wade jolted with a small whine, but didn’t resist or open his eyes, letting the pleasure burn through his nerves. “Stark was trying to talk me out of ever working with you – I’d mentioned seeing something about you working with the X-Men – and he decided that footage of you on a job would do the trick.”

“Good ol’ Iron Dildo, being a control freak,” Wade muttered without thinking, still sinking slowly back into his haze.

Peter’s touch sharped, pinching a particularly new patch of skin, and Wade jerked. He opened his eyes to find Peter looking at him with narrowed eyes and brow furrowed.

Wade flushed when he realized what he’d done, but didn’t apologize, lifting his chin. “What?” he asked. “Sir.” He tacked onto the end – he was looking for some force, here, not a punishment.

He just barely saw Peter’s grin before he moved. Suddenly, there was scant space between their faces, Peter’s hand wrapped around his throat – a promise, not a threat – Peter’s eyes steely and mouth drawn into a frown.

“Wade,” Peter said, and Wade shuddered at the hard edge in his voice. “Correct yourself.”

“Why?” Wade swallowed against the pressure of Peter’s hand, cock twitching where it was a little more than half-hard against his hip.

Peter’s sudden smile was sharp and _threatening,_ and Wade was very suddenly all the way hard. “There’s my little brat,” he murmured, and then they were kissing, all teeth and tongues. Wade melted under the assault, the lack of tension making him more aware of where his hands were webbed to the bedposts. He moaned into Peter’s mouth and arched forward when Peter’s only response was to give his throat a soft squeeze.

“Correct yourself, Wade,” Peter repeated when the kiss broke. Wade swallowed again, eyes rolling when Peter chose that moment to squeeze his throat again.

“Iron Man,” Wade gasped. “Sorry, Sir. Iron Man.”

Peter kissed him again, shorter and softer this time. “Good boy,” he said, leaning back. “Now, back to the story I was telling you.”

“Yes, Sir.” Wade closed his eyes again, relaxing his head back. Peter stroked over his jaw affectionately before returning to tracing scars.

“Right. So he wanted to show me footage of you, to prove you were a ruthless killer. He wanted to make sure I’d never want to work with you.”

Wade hummed to indicate he was still listening, arching into where Peter was stroking him.

“That was probably the worst thing he could have done,” Peter laughed lightly. “Because watching you work only succeeded in two things; giving me a boner, and making me want to meet you immediately.”

“Watching me work gave you a boner?” Wade opened his eyes again, shock evident in his voice. “Sir?”

Peter laughed again and rubbed over a sensitive spot on Wade’s hip, eyes flicking down to watch the way Wade’s cock twitched. “Absolutely,” he said. He leaned down and kissed Wade again, slow and deep, until Wade was practically drooling for it. When Peter broke the kiss, he just leaned closer, pressing his lips to Wade’s ear.

“Of course it did,” he whispered. “Why wouldn’t it have? Here was a big, strong mercenary who could, with _grace_, take out an entire room of terrorists with a Desert Eagle and two katanas. The sight of you in your suit still makes my cock twitch sometimes – how much it just _does not_ hide,” Peter’s hand stroked over Wade’s abs, “and how well it outlines this _perfect _ass.” Peter reached down and groped Wade’s ass, fingertips digging into the sensitive muscle. Wade moaned, all breath and hardly any sound.

“I thought you hated the killing, Sir.”

“Mmm,” Peter hummed, lips still pressed to Wade’s ear. The sensation made Wade shudder, and Peter grinned. “I’m not a fan, really,” he continued. “But I mostly don’t like the _indiscriminate _killing.”

“Ah,” Wade panted, starting to feel wound up at the same time he was sinking deeper and deeper into that wonderful, silent haze.

“Mhm,” Peter sat up again, touch trailing from Wade’s hips to his thighs. “The first thing I did when I went home that night was jerk off, thinking about the way you held a katana to the throat of the ringleader. Practically no contact with him at all, but I knew that you could kill him in an instant if he made a wrong move – which, you did, at the end of the video. I came so hard I was hoarse the next day.”

“Ff_fuck_,” Wade groaned, entire body jolting up against Peter’s at the thought.

“You like that?” Peter laughed. “I used to jerk off to thoughts of you all the time. It only got worse when we started working together, when you started flirting with me.”

Wade squirmed, cock twitching violently, and whined. “Sir,” he gasped. “Sir, I – please touch me.”

Peter’s hand ghosted over the head of Wade’s cock, a small, light touch, but a touch, nonetheless. Wade felt the way he pulsed precum against Peter’s palm and moaned.

Peter leaned back down to whisper in Wade’s ear again. “Would you like to know what your reward is, baby?”

Wade sucked in a breath and held it for a moment, letting it go on a whine. “Yes, please, Sir.”

Peter chuckled. “I thought you’d like it,” he started, voice going quieter and heavier, sounding like he did just before he came, and Wade squirmed, “if I stuffed you with that vibrator you love and pretend you don’t have, and then rode your cock til it’s raw.”

The “_please_,” leaked out of Wade on a desperate whimper. He yanked at his restraints out of instinct, wanting to show Peter his approval physically. Peter laughed.

“Let me grab that vibrator,” Peter said, then sat up. The way he paused was clearly a question. Wade cleared his throat.

“Green, Sir,” he said. Peter smiled and stroked his cheek affectionately before he stood – totally smooth and graceful, like always.

Wade didn’t want him to go, but he was definitely watching him leave. He groaned to express his appreciation, and Peter just laughed lightly, smacking his own ass. He bent over to dig through the drawer they kept their toys in and Wade just groaned some more, making Peter chuckle louder.

When he stood, he was holding the vibrator in his hand. It really was Wade’s favorite, but he did pretend he didn’t have it; it was embarrassing. He’d bought it before they were together, and he’d only bought it because it was red and blue. Peter had giggled when he’d seen it the first time, and the thought still made Wade blush.

Peter was just a graceful getting back onto the bed as he had been getting off of it. He shoved one of Wade’s legs a little further open to make room for himself and Wade shivered. Peter had to lean back over him to grab the lube, and Wade arched up into the places their skin was brushing. Peter smiled down at him.

“Beautiful boy,” he murmured, kissing Wade’s cheek before he leaned back up. Wade felt himself flush. Peter sat back on his knees and flipped open the lube, slicking up the vibrator thoroughly.

“Ready?” he asked, once he was satisfied. Wade nodded and whined, tilting his hips up. Peter just grinned and pushed the head of the vibrator against Wade’s hole until it forced inside.

Peter was always careful with Wade, but the healing factor made stretching him almost entirely futile. The upside was that the healing factor also drastically reduced the pain Wade could feel when Peter penetrated him. It worked out.

Wade sucked in a breath at the initial sensation of burning, then whined when it dissipated. Peter worked the toy all the way into him carefully before he looked back up.

“Color?” he asked.

“Green,” Wade gasped. “Please, sir.”

Peter hummed. “Be patient,” he said. “I still have to get myself ready.”

Wade just whimpered at that, throwing his head back as if that could prevent him from immediately picturing it. Peter chuckled.

“Look at me, Wade,” he said. Wade took a deep breath and obeyed.

Peter’s eyes were alight, and he was smirking, and Wade’s dick throbbed. He curled his hands into fists just to feel the way the webs pulled and stretched.

“How many settings does this thing have again?” Peter asked.

Wade swallowed. “Ten, sir.”

Peter nodded. “And which one is your favorite?”

Wade chewed his lip. “D-don’t really have one, Sir,” he said. Peter quirked his eyebrow.

“Is that a lie?”

Wade shook his head vigorously. “No, Sir,” he promised. “Just…. Hard to choose?”

Peter considered him for a moment before apparently deciding that he was telling the truth. “Hmm. Should we figure out which is your favorite, then?”

Wade shuddered hard. “I-if you want to, Sir.”

Peter grinned. “Right answer,” he said. “Let’s see.”

He reached down and grasped at the base of the toy. Wade’s cock twitched when it shifted the toy inside of him.

“One,” Peter said, and turned the toy on. It was a steady vibration, kind of low, but Wade groaned all the same. Peter let it run for a moment, watching Wade, then changed the setting. “Two.”

The second setting was still a steady vibration, just stronger, and Wade whined, hips jerking at the stimulation. Peter smirked and used his grip on the toy to pull it out just a little and then shove it back in. Wade’s entire body arched up in response.

“_Fuck_!” he shouted. Peter chuckled.

“Three.” Peter started rocking the toy back and forth just slightly, making Wade shudder and squirm at the intense, but still steady vibration. “Four.”

Wade jerked hard at the odd, irregular pulsing of the fourth setting and whined, head pressed back against the pillows and eyes squeezed shut. Peter left it there for a moment, just gently rocking the toy, until apparently he was satisfied with how hard Wade was shaking.

“Five,” he said, and Wade bit his lip. The vibration was still a pulse, but a little bit more regular; long and short, long and short. Wade couldn’t control the way his legs started to quiver or how his eyes rolled. Peter pressed a hand to his stomach, feeling the way his abs clenched with each pulse.

“Six,” Peter announced, and the pulsing got more regular but faster, making Wade cry out. His voice cracked from the volume, and Peter just laughed. “Seven,” he said.

The pulsing got irregular again, but stayed at the previous speed. Wade outright screamed, and just got louder when Peter started fucking him with the toy in earnest. It was intense – too intense, he was shuddering hard no matter how much he tried to still. He could feel a familiar tensing in his lower body, spiraling warmth, and –

“Oh – or – orange!” he gasped. Almost immediately, the toy was shut off and pulled gently out of him, and Peter was leaning up so they were face to face.

“Hey, what’s up?” he asked, eyes concerned and tone gentle. Wade wheezed for a second, head spinning, unable to come up with the words as his body creeped back from the edge. “Wade?”

“T-too much,” Wade panted out. “Too – too intense. Almost came. Sorry, Sir.”

Peter smiled and shook his head. “Don’t apologize, Wade,” he murmured, leaning forward to kiss Wade’s forehead. “Such a good boy, telling me when it was too much.”

Wade just tilted his head up, and Peter grinned, kissing his nose before he gave Wade the proper kiss he was looking for.

“Do you think we can still test the last three settings?” Peter asked once he broke the kiss. Wade bit back a whine and took a deep breath, thinking. He wiggled a little, taking stock of his body, and Peter just levered himself up to give him the room to do it.

“I think so, Sir,” Wade finally said.

Peter’s grin was like the sun. “Perfect boy,” he murmured, and kissed Wade again. Once he was done – several breathless, mind-bending moments later – he pulled back and sat between Wade’s spread legs again, reapplying lube to the vibrator.

Wade took a deep breath, letting it out on a low moan as the toy pushed back inside. Peter gave him a second to adjust to the sudden stretch, but not too long.

“Color?” he checked.

Wade took another deep breath. “Green, sir.”

“Good boy,” he praised. “Seven, again.” He flicked the vibrator on, and Wade shouted at the sudden pulsing, hips twitching up. Peter pushed them back down to the bed with one hand effortlessly.

“Eight,” he said. The pulsing slowed, and each pulse was a different strength of vibration, making Wade shudder and jolt at the sudden changes. He whimpered lowly.

Peter chuckled. “Nine.” The same as five, but with the same varying strengths as the eighth.

Wade rolled his head back and groaned, undulating his hips the smallest amount he could. Peter chuckled again.

“Last one,” he said. “Ten.” At first, it seemed like it was just a steady vibration again, lower than even the first setting, but then there was a quick burst of fast, strong pulses that made Wade shout. Even expecting them, the second round made him shout just as loudly.

Peter flicked the vibrator off. “Perfect, Wade,” he said. “You did so well. I think I know which ones you like the most, now.”

Wade hummed noncommittally at first, then forced his eyes open. “Which ones, Sir?”

Peter smiled. “Seven is your favorite,” he said, and Wade felt the way his cheeks went hot at the tone in Peter’s voice. “Four is a close second, though. I can see why you didn’t know off the top of your head.”

Wade nodded in agreement, then wiggled his hips a little. Peter laughed, slapping his hip.

“Are you trying to tell me to get a move on?” he asked.

Wade bit his lip, but he knew it wouldn’t hide his smile. “Never, Sir.”

Peter chuckled and leaned forward to bite at Wade’s throat. “Brat,” he said, but the affection in his voice made it sound exactly like he’d just said _good boy _instead. Wade hummed and arched closer.

And, despite his accusing, Peter sat back and up, grabbing the lube bottle again and dumping a mess of it on his own fingers. Wade sucked in a breath and held it, chewing his lip when Peter looked at him.

“Breathe, baby,” Peter ordered softly. Wade let out the breath and took another one, a little less sharply this time. “Do you want to watch?”

Wade groaned. “Yes, Sir. Please?”

Peter smiled. “Of course,” he said. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to Wade’s mouth. “Anything for my perfect, beautiful boy.”

Wade flushed and blinked up at Peter, puckering his lips. Peter laughed and kissed him again, a proper kiss this time, deep and dirty. Wade whimpered into it, straining against the webs to get just a little closer. The bedframe creaked slightly.

Peter was panting just as hard as Wade when he pulled back and Wade smiled. He knew he probably looked like a dreamy schmuck, but the way Peter smiled back at him made him feel all melty and content, so it didn’t matter. Without another word and only a small kiss on Wade’s temple, Peter flipped around so his back was to Wade. He bent at the waist so Wade had a fantastic view between his legs and braced on one arm against the edge of the bed.

Wade reminded himself to breathe evenly as he watched Peter circle his own hole with the tips of his long fingers. Peter sighed softly and Wade bit back a moan, not wanting to miss any of those soft little sounds. The moment seemed to drag on forever, with Peter just gently rubbing around his own rim, but Wade held back his whining.

Finally, Peter pressed a single finger in. His sigh this time was a little louder, and Wade tugged at the webbing around his arms instinctually. He bit back the growl rising up his throat and forced himself to relax. He wanted to enjoy this show, even if it was hard to do it when he couldn’t touch.

It took Peter a few long seconds before he started to move the first finger. Wade knew that Peter both loved and hated that initial burn; he liked to feel it but he had to wait it out, and he was just as impatient as Wade was, even if he was better at faking it. Despite the delay, Wade was practically salivating at the sight before him.

He’d always had a thing for Peter’s ass. The years hadn’t changed that. In fact, Wade was pretty sure it was worse.

“It is worse,” Peter said suddenly, his voice a little shaky as he pushed a second finger in beside the first. Wade hadn’t realized he was speaking out loud. “I think you comment more on my ass now than you ever did before we got together.”

Wade flushed but couldn’t help the proud grin that spread across his face. “That’s a feat to be proud of,” he announced. “Sir.”

Peter laughed, and it was just as shaky as his words had been. He didn’t say anything else, though, apparently content to leave it at gasping and soft moans as he scissored his fingers. Wade chewed his lip raw to hold back his own moaning as he watched, curling his hands as far into fists as he could get them. The image itself of Peter’s hold relaxing slowly around his fingers was enough to make Wade’s cock twitch, and the fact that Wade knew exactly why Peter was fingering himself open only made it throb harder.

The third finger went in slowly, and Peter panted out a broken, “_Wade_,” when all three were knuckle-deep. Wade let slip a whine in response, his own hips jerking in counterpoint to the way Peter’s were shifting back and forth. Peter fucked himself with the three fingers for several minutes, the volume of his gasps and moans getting steadily louder. Wade started to whimper involuntarily.

After what felt like an eternity, Peter finally pulled his fingers out of himself (not without pulling his ass cheek aside under the disguise of wiping lube from his fingers, showing off, making Wade drool) and turned around.

“Sir,” Wade whined, tugging against his bonds. “Please.”

Peter laughed, but his pupils were blown wide and his lips were red, ruining the effect. “Such a pretty boy,” he said, low enough it was almost a purr. “You stayed so hard.”

He ghosted the palm of his hand over Wade’s dick and Wade swore he could feel tears gathering in his eyes.

“Yes, Sir,” he panted. “I want you so badly, please?”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Peter grinned and shifted up, easily adjusting their positions so he was straddling Wade’s hips. He reached behind himself without even looking to grab the lube, and slicked up Wade’s cock the same way.

Wade shuddered at the sensation, squeezing his eyes shut against the urge to thrust up into the touch. Peter chuckled and squeezed around the base of his cock, tight enough to ache just a little. Wade groaned and opened his eyes again.

“Ready?” Peter asked. Wade nodded, opening his mouth to bed, but before he could get a word out, Peter was already in position, pushing until just the head of Wade’s cock slipped into him.

They both moaned, Wade louder than Peter, and Wade’s shiver rocked Peter forward the slightest bit. Peter just moved with it, sinking just a bit further down when he rocked back.

Wade focused on his breathing so he wouldn’t hyperventilate, forcing his eyes open to watch Peter. Peter, for his part, looked half fucked-out already, head lolling back and mouth open as he worked himself down on Wade’s cock. Wade chewed his lip bloody to keep still while he watched.

“Fuck, Wade,” Peter moaned after a moment of silent gasps. “God, you feel so good, baby.”

Wade whined and threw his head back, focusing all of his attention on keeping his hips still against the urge to thrust. He was going to lose his mind. He absolutely way. Never mind that he hadn’t been mentally stable for decades, this was going to be what officially pushed him off the edge and to no return.

“Beautiful boy,” Peter murmured. “Perfect boy, look at me.”

Wade sucked in a huge breath and held it for a moment, but obeyed, lifting his head and opening his eyes again. Peter was staring straight at him, face slack and eyes dark with pleasure, and Wade whimpered at the visual. Peter just smirked, lazy and lust-drunk, and sank the last few inches down, til his ass met Wade’s thighs.

“_Fuck,_” they hissed at the same time. Wade’s eyelids fluttered, but he made himself keep his eyes open to watch Peter’s face morph through several expressions: shock, pleasure, something like awe, and then mischievousness.

Wade swallowed hard as Peter reached behind himself, showing off that famous flexibility, and grasped the base of the toy that was still inside Wade.

“Color?” he asked, and his tone was serious, despite the lustful look in his eyes. Wade swallowed and nodded.

“Green.”

Peter smirked again, and it looked almost sharp now. The vibrator clicked on, and Wade could tell it was the fourth setting; the random pulsing quaked through his body, making him grind up into Peter’s body. Peter hummed and rolled his neck, following the movement and starting to rock back and forth.

Wade whined, vision going a little hazy as he tried too hard to focus on both sensations. “F-fuck,” he stammered, twisting against his bonds. Peter leaned forward, beginning to bounce instead of rock, bracing with his hands on Wade’s chest.

“God_damn_,” Peter hissed. “You feel so fucking good, Wade, baby, _fuck_.”

Wade just whimpered, hips picking up Peter’s rhythm and pulsing along to it clumsily. The vibrator was throwing him off, but Peter wasn’t complaining. In fact, Peter was quickly reduced to nothing but deep groans and shouts as he moved, his blunt fingernails digging into Wade’s pecs as he lost himself to the pleasure. Wade was along for the ride, helpless to the mix of sensations swirling over his nerves, even more powerless against the way Peter looked and sounded and felt.

“Peter, Sir, please,” he gasped, legs and arms starting to shake hard enough that the bedframe started to make threatening noises. Peter just moved faster, sitting up a little straighter as he bounced, thighs working.

“Wade,” he panted, “Wade, fuck, such a good boy, I’m – oh, Jesus Christ, I’m so close, fuck – ”

Wade moaned, starting to struggle against the webs around his wrists in earnest, fully aware that he had no chance of breaking out of them. It made it better, knowing that unless Peter let him, he couldn’t touch.

“Perfect,” Peter gasped like the word was punched out of him, “so perfect, fuck, fuck, fuh – oh – _oh my god _– ”

He tensed so hard he was almost still except for the way he was shaking, his nails buried in Wade’s chest. Wade kept moving his hips, even though he was clumsy, riding the edge himself.

“_Wade_,” Peter whined, and finally the moment broke. He came all over Wade’s stomach and chest, still shaking like a screen door in a hurricane, hips grinding back against Wade’s erratically. Wade grit his teeth against his own orgasm, wanting to see Peter sated, and kept up with his own not-quite-rhythmic movements. It took a ridiculous amount of time, several minutes by Wade’s hazy track, for Peter to finally come down, shuddering as he collapsed forward into Wade’s chest.

“Sir,” Wade hissed, bucking his hips. “Please."

Peter panted against his cheek for a moment longer, but then he was leaning up, toward Wade’s hands, easily dissolving the webs keeping him bound. Once his wrists were free, Wade’s hands went immediately to Peter’s hips, gripping hard enough to bruise. Peter just slurred a pleasure-drunk laugh and leaned back again, grasping at the toy and flicking the setting up to seven.

Wade’s entire body stilled when the vibrations hit him, and then he was shouting, rhythm and attention shot. Peter was encouraging him, filthy words spilling from his swollen mouth, but Wade could hardly even process them as his orgasm hit like a Mack truck.

When Wade’s vision swam back into focus, Peter was still straddling him, tracing the already-scarred scratches he’d dug into Wade’s chest. The toy had been removed and was sitting on the bed against Wade’s thigh.

“There you are,” Peter said, voice warm. “How are you feeling, beautiful boy?”

Wade hummed, still a little woozy, and grinned. Peter just chuckled and leaned down to kiss his cheek.

“I’ll go get something to clean up with, okay?”

Wade nodded. “Mmm. Thank you, Sir.”

“Of course, Wade,” Peter kissed his cheek again, “will you be alright here?”

Wade nodded, feeling content and floppy. Peter smiled and moved off the bed, heading toward the bathroom. Wade laid on the bed exactly where he was, happy to float in the afterglow for as long as he could.

Peter came back with a warm, damp rag, and he quickly wiped Wade up and released his legs from the webbing bondage. Wade still laid where he was put, grinning like a dope while Peter wiped himself down as well.

“Lotion time?” Peter asked. Wade nodded.

“And then tacos?” he asked hopefully. Peter chuckled and nodded.

“And then tacos, if that’s what you want, baby,” Peter agreed.

Peter began at Wade’s feet, like always. As he slowly worked his way up Wade’s body, carefully massaging his special lotion into every inch of Wade’s skin, Wade slowly floated back down to Earth. Peter was just turning him over to get to his back when the Boxes made their reappearance.

{Ooooh, we feel good. What’d we miss?}

[The usual depravity.]

{Awww, I like the depravity.}

Wade sighed. Peter stopped where he was massaging lotion into Wade’s thighs. “Baby? Is something wrong?”

Wade waved a hand dismissively. “Voices,” he said.

Peter huffed. “Be nice, you two.”

{I’m always nice!}

[You don’t deserve nice.]

“Fuck you,” Wade muttered. Peter patted his shoulder, knowing full well who Wade was talking to.

“Alright,” Peter said after a moment of running his hands over Wade’s legs and ass. Wade wasn’t sure if the motions were necessary, per se, but he wasn’t about to complain. “How are you feeling?”

“Warm,” Wade answered immediately. It was true. His whole body was warm. “And comfortable.” And comfortable. Peter draped his body over Wade’s back and his comfort level just increased.

“What else?”

“Mmm. I think I’m up,” Wade said. Peter nodded and kissed his ear.

“Was that okay?” he asked. “I was a little, uh, forceful in the kitchen.”

“It was perfect,” Wade assured him, turning his head and looking at Peter from the corner of his eye. “You’re perfect.”

“Hardly.” Peter rolled his eyes, but he blushed. “Anything you didn’t like?”

Wade shrugged the shoulder Peter wasn’t resting on. “Just Tweedledee and Tweedledum in here,” he said, gesturing to his own head. Peter nodded.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Me either.”

{Why doesn’t he like me?}

[Am I supposed to be Tweedledee or Tweedledum?]

Wade ignored the Boxes for the moment. “Thank you,” he said. “You really are a perfect dom.”

Peter blushed again. “I’m only a good dom because you’re such a perfect sub,” he countered.

Wade shifted, making it clear that he wanted to roll over, and Peter leaned up to let him. Once he was settled on his back, he wrapped an arm around Peter’s waist and pulled him down.

Peter laughed. “Hey there,” he said, face barely inches from Wade’s.

“Hi,” Wade said back, staring blatantly at Peter’s mouth. He could still see Peter roll his eyes, though.

“C’mere,” Peter muttered, and leaned in for a kiss.

They stayed like that for a long, perfect moment. The Boxes bickered in Wade’s head, but for the moment, he didn’t care. Peter was heavy and warm over him, and his skin didn’t hurt right now, and he knew that once they got up, they’d order take out and cuddle on the couch while they ate.

Peter pulled back from the kiss, just enough to whisper, “My perfect, beautiful boy,” and Wade thought nothing could be more perfect than this.

**Author's Note:**

> okay no seriously p l e a s e validate my bullshit. i'm so terrified of posting this fic.


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